


home is where the heart is

by 0shadow_panther0



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Chronological, Vignette, complete toothrotting fluff, dadvid and momgwen, david is flustered almost all the time, gwen is smug and more than a little cool, max tries to act like he doesnt care, no im serious, spoiler- he cares a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0shadow_panther0/pseuds/0shadow_panther0
Summary: Summer goes by, and all the kids leave Camp Campbell and go home.Except Max.It’s one thing to tell himself that his parents don’t care- one thing to tell himself and even to believe it- but having it actually happen-Well.But it’s okay, because David’s there, and so is Gwen, and they might actually be better than the real thing. And, to be fair, it’s not like he’s getting soft or anything (absolutely not) because the real thing has been pretty goddamn awful- but it’s better. It might actually be nice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i discovered camp camp this weekend and have listened to nothing but 'better than you' for five days

“Max-” David starts. It’s getting cold, and the road has been empty for a while, now.

“Fucking leave it,” Max barks, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, face carefully downturned. “I told it would happen, didn’t I? They. Don’t. _Care_.” The last three words are spat with enough venom to make David flinch.

Gwen takes a step forward and the crouches so she’s eye-level with Max. “Max,” she says, uncharacteristically soft. “We’re not going to leave you here.”

He sniffs. “Yeah, well,” he mutters. “I guess that’d be shitty. Even for you.” Then, he adds, “Cause you’re a shitty counselor, you fucker.”

She lifts a hand and gently ruffles his hair. “C’mon, you shitty brat,” she says. “We’ll make s’mores for snack. And then we can go get pizza for dinner, yeah?”

Max pauses for a moment and scoffs. “Whatever.”

But it’s not a rejection, and Gwen will take what she can get at this point, and, with a pointed glance at David and a wordless mouthing of the words ‘Bob Ross, _now_ ,’ shepherds Max off to the mess hall. David freezes for a second and then bolts for the counselors cabin and collects every DVD of Bob Ross they own, and also some of their (his) collection of the Muppets. Just in case.

He grabs Gwen’s laptop, the old, clunky, battery-powered projector he and Gwen never use, three blankets, and then stacks everything and gathers it precariously in his arms, and hastily wobbles his way back to Gwen and Max.

By the time he makes it back to the kitchen, Gwen has whipped out a massive bag of extra-large marshmallows (David bites his tongue when he glances at the expiration date), a box of graham crackers, and her secret stash of dark chocolate that he knows she saves for when she gets sad and moody during her periods.

Gwen looks at him and scoffs a half-laugh, half-huff of exasperation and hands some of the ingredients to Max before plucking half of David’s stack and balancing it in one hand. David’s arms thank him immediately.

“C’mon, Camp Man,” she says, nudging him with a shoulder, “we’re gonna head to the campers’ tents.”

For once, Gwen takes the lead, Max trudging along in the middle and David bringing up the rear. It’s oddly quiet, in a stifling, fist-clenching way. Max keeps his eyes to the ground, and Gwen glances back every now and then, as if checking that they’re even still there.

David hates the quiet, but the words are stuck in his throat, and his jaw is refusing to unclench from where his teeth have been grinding. He doesn’t _understand_ \- Max left alone, no last name, no contact info, _nothing_. Who could do that?

He lengthens his stride a little and catches up with Max. He gets a narrow-eyed, suspicious glare for his troubles, but ignores the hostility and carefully adjusts his hold on the projector.

Once they get to the circle of tents, Gwen slows and the others follow suit. She sets down her stack of goods and stretches, rolling her shoulders.

“Hey, David,” she calls. “Do you think we could-” she motions towards the tents, then moves her hands like she’s stretching out the corners of a banner.

He blinks, processing the request. “Oh, absolutely!” he says, and Gwen nods, satisfied.

“Fire first,” she urges, and David bobs his head in agreement.

Max plops himself down on the ground as David crouches and sets his things to the side, then pulls his flint from his pocket and turns his attention to the unlit bonfire. It’s not really dark enough to warrant a fire yet- the sun is barely starting to set, and the sky is only barely tinged with gold- but for the sake of Max’s s’mores, he’ll make an exception.

He has to scrounge around for a little extra kindling, but the fire gets going soon enough, crackling merrily. He catches Max popping marshmallows into his mouth straight from the bag more than once. David frowns and crosses his arms, head tilted, and Max looks him directly in the eye and slowly eats another one.

“David, a little help?” Gwen calls from the tent she’s attempting to turn around.

“Of course!” David replies, hopping back onto his feet like a launched spring.

It takes a good amount of time to wrangle the tent into a new shape- they stretch the canvas straight across the poles, perpendicular to the ground, and Max snorts with something approaching laughter as Gwen trips over David’s leg and ends up sprawled out on top of him, the latter turning beet red.

Once everything is finally set up, Gwen taps away at her laptop to pull up ‘The Joy of Painting’ and David and Max start twirling marshmallows over the fire. David roasts his until it’s a perfectly even brown and just starting to turn gooey; Max sets his on fire and lets it burn until its more charcoal than marshmallow.

Soon enough the video is playing, screen projected onto the repurposed tent and the slightly tinny audio playing through Gwen’s laptop, and Gwen herself sidles closer to the fire to make s’mores of her own.

David can probably recite every word of the first few episodes of ‘The Joy of Painting-’ time hasn’t reduced its charm in the slightest, and it’s been one of his favorite shows since childhood. Even Max, for all his sourness and general irritability, can’t seem to himself to make any scathing remarks about Bob Ross.

The silence, while still a little strained, is warmer than before, and David allows a little of the tension to drain out of him.

“Hey,” Gwen says suddenly. “Wanna sleep in the counselors’ cabin? Like, in a bed?”

“Fuck yeah,” Max says immediately. Then, “What’s the catch?”

Gwen shrugs. “I was gonna catch up on some TV tonight,” she says offhandedly. “You can take my bed, if you want.”

David is pretty sure that’s a lie- Gwen values her sleep, and, considering their constant company, he can’t really blame her- but the fact that she’s giving up her bed for Max is somehow not entirely surprising.

He watches as Max accepts and then promptly initiates a faux-sword fight using flaming marshmallows on sticks (in which Gwen retaliates with a surprising amount of goodwill and enthusiasm), Bob Ross calmly droning on in the background, and it takes him a few moments to realize he’s smiling- they all are.

Later, when Max stumbles into bed, completely and utterly exhausted and stuffed with pizza, and Gwen slumps into her armchair, already dozing off, David gently scoops her up into his arms and tucks her into his bed, and then curls up in his chair and drifts off.

And they’re not really okay, not by a long shot, but… for now, it’s okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have zero self control

All three of them are in the counselors’ cabin- David is perched in his usual armchair, watching Bob Ross with rapt attention, while Max is sprawled out on the floor with a bundle of blankets at the foot of Gwen’s. Gwen herself is laying on her back on the sofa, legs resting on the backrest, feet dangling over the top and head thrown back over the edge so she’s watching upside down. Her hair, out of its ponytail for once, spills over onto Max’s head, who bears it with a remarkable amount of patience considering his character.

“This sucks. I’m leaving,” Max says suddenly, and Gwen takes a moment to run it through her Max translator and comes up with, “I’m tired, good night.”

David seems to come to the same conclusion, judging by his cheery, “Good night, Max!” and Gwen allows herself a small smile at the boy’s responding snort.

Max hauls himself up and tucks the blankets under his arm, pausing to glare at each of them before turning to leave.

“What, no good night kiss?” Gwen asks teasingly, still upside-down. Her arms are outstretched like she’s expecting a hug.

Max squints at her and scowls, and takes a threatening step towards her. Gwen breathes out a huff of laughter and squeezes her eyes shut, fully expecting the lancing pain of a headbutt.

Instead, there’s the briefest, faintest pressure on her forehead, and she opens her eyes just in time to see Max scrambling to his feet and bolting away, the tips of his ears bright red.

Gwen stares until Max is out of sight and then a little longer, and is jerked back to reality by the sound of the door slamming shut.

She blinks rapidly and cranes her head to look at David. He’s beaming, starry-eyed and wonderstruck.

“Did… what I think just happened… happen?” she asks slowly, and David nods his head like a bobblehead offroad.

Gwen blinks again. “Huh.”

She sighs and finally rights herself, wobbling a little as the blood rushes from her head. She groans a little as she stretches her arms and rolls her neck. “Oof. I think I might head to bed, too. G‘night, David.”

“Oh! Um- good night!”

His voice is little more than a squeak, and Gwen turns to him in confusion. He immediately averts his gaze, steadily becoming redder and redder.

Huh.

“Do you…?” she starts, and then trails off because… huh.

David’s face is closer to his hair in color than it’s original shade, and he actually hides his face in his hands as he nods.

It is absolutely, undoubtedly, the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

She hops off her chair and meanders over to David’s. His hands drop to his lap as she approaches, where he wrings them nervously, flushing more by the second, and Gwen is starting to get a little concerned.

She braces one hand on the armrest and the other on his knee- he squeaks a little at the contact, which is also adorable- and then leans forward and very gently presses her lips to his brow.

She draws back a little, but pauses when David tentatively grabs her hand.

“Can I-?” He pauses, stutters.

 _Cute_.

“Sure,” Gwen says, and leans in again.

David presses a kiss to her cheek and Gwen smiles. Just a little.

And, because she can, when she says “good night” for the second time, she ducks in and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

And if she walks away with a smug tilt to her mouth and a little more sway to her hips than usual, well, who can blame her?


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen mentally checks off everything on the grocery list as she loads them into the trunk- eggs, sausage, something green, cereal, a handful of other things. She’s on supply run duty while David stays at camp with Max, and the drive to Sleepy Peak was a welcome reprieve from Max’s unwavering determination in being the angriest child in the world and David’s general… David-ness.

Neither of which are inherently _bad_ things, but Gwen can only take so much social interaction.

She stops back the general store to pick up some other necessities, and, as she hauls the bags back to the car, something in the window of a nearby shop catches her eye.

It’s a gift-shop sign advertising some build-a-bear knock off, and, contrary to her usual apathy, she wanders over for a better look. There’s a couple of teddy bears on display outside, a little worse for wear. Gwen runs her fingers over one- its soft and plush, even where some patches have been worn down. She squints at the sign- “Make two, get one free!”

Almost reflexively, she checks her wallet. There were a few sales at the grocery store, so she has some cash leftover…

She sighs. Fuck it.

By the time Gwen finally makes it back to camp, afternoon has melted into evening. The sky is painted with warm golds and reds, and the trees’ silhouettes stand like black cardboard cutouts against the swirl of color.

She drops the food off at the mess hall and shifts the other bags as she meanders back to the counselor’s cabin. There’s toiletries in one of them, some stuff for her in the other (trashy discount romance novels that she found in the corner of the general store, mostly), and the gift shop logo is emblazoned on the last.

“The fuck is that?” Max says, with a little less venom than usual. He’s sitting in her chair, the little shit, peering over the back so the only his eyes and the top of his head are visible. David twists around in his chair to look back at her.

“Here,” she says, tossing the gift shop bag at Max. He fumbles for a second before catching it, squinting at her suspiciously.

She shrugs. “There was a sale at the gift shop. Figured you might like them.”

Max scoffs and reaches into the bag, and his scowling face goes slack and whatever scathing comment he has on the tip of his tongue dies as he pulls out three teddy bears.

One is a bright, fire hydrant red with a tiny yellow bandana, the other is a warm purple with a green shirt, and the last is brown with a blue hoodie. Each is slightly smaller than the size of a pillow, all plush and fluff.

Max is speechless, and, out of the corner of her eye, Gwen thinks she can see David getting a little teary.

“Mr. Honey Nut can have some friends now, I guess,” Gwen says, breaking the silence. “So… there’s that- whoa!”

Max practically tackles her- well, her legs, at least- and she takes a wobbly step back to regain her balance. Hesitantly, she pats the top of his head, and barely has the time to think, ‘Wow, what conditioner does he _use_ ,’ before he reels back like he’s been shocked and bolts out the door.

There’s a moment of silence and David suddenly cries out, “Oh, _Gwen_!”

She startles to attention. “Whah-“

“That’s was so wonderful!” Daid gushes. “Oh, that was _us_ , Gwen, I can’t believe- well, I can, you’re just so amazing-“

“Hold on there, buddy,” Gwen says placatingly. “Calm down, it was just a few stupid toys-“

“They weren’t stupid and you know it,” David chides. “You wouldn’t have done it otherwise! And Max certainly didn’t seem to think so.”

“I’ve done a lotta stupid shit,” Gwen deflects. “I was a liberal arts major, remember?”

David stands and puts his hands on his hips like a disapproving mother. “Gwen,” he says, “you don’t have to be ashamed of caring.”

She opens her mouth to retort, but pauses. “I-” she starts, the bites her lip. “I’m not that great of a person.”

David opens his mouth to protest and Gwen shakes her head. “Let me finish,” she says. “I’m not that great. I’m actually kind of a fuck up. I have two useless degrees and a dead-end job that barely gets me anywhere and I’m honestly just not that nice of a person. Max deserves better than me, but I _promise_ that I’m going to do the best I can to take care of him and-”

Ultimately, David doesn’t let her finish. Suddenly her face is buried in his chest as he wraps her in a crushing hug and- oh, there’s tear stains on his shirt now. She hadn’t realized she was crying.

“Gwen, you’re wonderful,” David says. “You’re amazing. You deserve the whole world.”

“You’d say that to anyone,” she mumbles, voice muffled by his shirt. He smells like the forest and the cheap soap that the camp uses, she notes vaguely. It’s… nice.

“That doesn’t make it any less true,” David points out. He rests his chin on the top of her head, arms relaxing and hands resting at the small of her back.

She sniffles. It’s probably more than a little gross, but David doesn’t seem to mind.

“...Sorry,” she says. “I’m getting snot on your shirt.”

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Gwen pauses, biting her tongue. “...Thank you.”

David smiles down at her, bright and genuine. “I’m always going to be here for the you,” he says earnestly. “Both of you.”

And Gwen almost laughs at that, because somehow ‘always’ seems appropriate with David, like a constant.

She tucks her face against his shoulder to hide her smile.

“Thank you,” she says again, and she hopes they can stay like that a little longer.

It’s warm.


End file.
